The Shiperator
by NiceSlytherin
Summary: An ongoing collection of oneshots from various fandoms. These are my adventures with an original invention called the Shiperator. Who knows what will happen? (I don't yet, but read to find out!)


**Hello readers! Thanks for clicking on this fic. You probably want an explanation now.**

**Basically, my friends and I have invented this marvelous thing called a Shiperator. (Let's pretend it's patented. But if you really want to, it's easy to make) It's a box, filled with names of characters from all generations and genders and fandoms. When you don't know what to write, simply pick two slips of paper and you must ship them. No matter what. For this collection, though, I've made the exception of none of my friends' or my OCs, so it's more reader-friendly. And no Greek Gods, because that's just weird and I have no idea how those got in there.**

**This is a project I will come back to whenever I need a break from my current fics, to get creativity flowing. Or something. So if you like it, please favorite and review, and follow, because it will be ongoing.**

**Before we start, a few disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters in this fic, nor the worlds they live in. Those belong to several people including JK Rowling, BBC, and Marvel.**

**Please, pretty please no flames for the relationships. It should have been made obvious already that the entire point of this project is to test my flexibility as a write with some of the weirdest ships ever. Also, these are all one shots that will never be revised and most of which are written when I'm too exhausted to write but am forcing myself.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter 1: Lily Evans (Potter)/Barty Crouch Jr**

**A/N: no physical stuff of any sort in this chapter, I don't know why, it just didn't fit at the moment. But there might be a little bit in future chapters, just a warning. But I'll also say I'm pretty relaxed in swearing when I write, so if you have a problem with that, either ignore it, or maybe this isn't the thing for you.**

"Yes, Miss Evans," McGonagall calls, a knowing half-smile flickering on her face. Nothing has changed over the summer. I drop my brand-new quill onto the desk and clear my throat.

"I'm sorry, Professor, because I might be mistaken, but I thought it _was _possible for wizards to conduct human transfiguration without a wand, though uncommon. A unique mutation causes Metamorphagi."

"Metamorphmagi do not exist," snaps McGonagall. "At least of now, this power you speak of to change one's appearance at will easily and without a wand is considered a myth. Now, as I was saying, you have a rather light homework load tonight, I dare say-"

"But she's right."

I spin around in my seat to see who had spoken. A skinny boy with brown hair sticking out in every direction stands, watching McGonagall keenly. "My mother's best friend was a Metamorphmagus. I saw her change once."

"Barty Crouch, isn't it?" she asks sternly, peering at the class list. "Bumped up from year five. Well, Mr Crouch, it's common knowledge that this 'mutation' is merely a superstition, kept alive by talented wizards and witches such as, I'd suppose, the woman you describe. Anyway, your homework…" Her words meld into a blurry of sound to me as Crouch slumps in his seat, crossing his arms. He catches my eye and shakes his head exasperatedly, then smiles. A second later I realize my face is probably the same shade as my hair, and start to fiddle with my quill. _What the hell just happened?_

Finally McGonagall waves her arms and class is dismissed. Free period. I make a beeline for the library, pushing through the thick current of students. A tug at my wrist makes me twirl around. Barty Crouch falls into step with me. He's even tinier than it seemed when he was the only one standing. "Hey. Lily, right?"

"Yeah." I glance at him. "Thanks for trying to save my ass back there."

"No problem. I can't believe that woman. I'd thought she might actually have a brain in there instead of empty space like the rest of them." A wave of rowdy fourth years appears in front of us and Barty's grip on my hand tightens as we slide by them.

"You know," I say slowly, trying to keep the pointedness out of my voice. "You're quite courageous for a Slytherin."

"Is that a good thing?"

He smiles that smile, and I can feel my face beginning to flush. _Seriously? _I focus on how short he is, the way his hair flops out everywhere like he just rolled out of bed, try to get annoyed at his smart-alecky attitude. But it's not working.

He's still waiting for me to reply.

"It very well could be."

**Well! That was actually pretty fun. Let me know what you think!**

**Until next time,**

**NS**


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